Merida, 8/14/2010 - And now for an adventure...

I was the first to get up and go to breakfast. I had finished my breakfast and was reading when Raquel and Lynda joined me. We continued talking about our trip thus far after the two of them finished their breakfast. While we were talking, a group of older gentleman began gathering in the back corner of the restaurant at a long table. They were laughing and greeting each other as they settled in. After a bit one of them began playing a guitar and then a singer began a song, a classic bolero. And then other songs, boleros and rancheras, began to follow accompanied by a mix of soft conversation and quiet attention. In between songs, there was laughter and conversation and halting starts as a new player worked out the chords on the guitar that was being passed around.

The bathrooms were located in the same back corner. Raquel went to the restroom and when finished, she respectfully lingered during the performance of another song. We were all listening intently by now, us, the group of gentlemen, those few at other tables, as the oldest of the gentlemen performed in a quavering, yet still beautiful and gentle voice. We all applauded for him when he finished. Raquel began to engage them in conversation and the men soon invited her to join them at their table. Another woman, older, a friend around 50'ish, had also joined them by now. The songs and playing continued with conversation in between. At a certain point Raquel gestured toward Lynda and I and we also were invited to join them. As we did so, one of the players launched into a beautiful version of the famous adagio from the Concierto de Aranjuez for guitar. Everyone respectfully paid attention to his skill and artistry. We ended up sitting with them for a long time and joined in the drinking and conversation (as best as Lynda and could), while the guitar was passed among the players and various singers sang.

Turns out these guys come to the hotel on a regular basis from 11-2 to sing and play. They are all musicians and pictures from their younger days as musicians adorn the wall above the place they habitually sit at. The oldest with the gentle quavering voice is 92.

One of the gentlemen, Mario Urantia, one of the younger ones, 50 or so, insisted we come with him to Puerta Progreso, the beach town a half hour north of Merida to eat and see the sights. We decided to go along. He was somewhat smitten with Raquel, but he was a gentlemen and showed us around, took us to a restaurant that served typical food of the Yucatan, where we successfully insisted on paying the bill, which was incredibly reasonable. Progreso is very much of a local get away place, very few foreigners there.

The gentleman, Mario, then took us back to Merida, briefly stopping to show us the house he lived in, in the newer, northern area of Merida. This area is very modern, with a giant convention center and a giant mall and many American restaurants and stores such as Office Depot, Auto Zone, Bennigans, Fridays, Burger King, etc.

If it hadn’t been for Raquel and her Spanish we would never have encountered these musicians and we would never have had the opportunity to go with Mario to Puerta Progreso. Thank you, Raquel. Y muchas gracias a Mario Urantia, un hombre con un gran corazon.

Diego